Category Archives: Desire / Sex / Love

“I’ve already told you: the only way to a woman’s heart is along the path of torment. I know none other as sure” ~ Marquis de Sade

Lightning Bolts

Zeus-Hera_shadowsineden.blogspot.com

Last night I dreamt of Zeus & of Hera & their children. Eileithyia – with her watchful eye has followed me through the last two years & two dead babies. She whispers to me & although I understand her in the dream I do not remember her words when I wake & yet her words haunt me.

I awoke with pain lingering in my abdomen & tears on my cheeks. My husband asked me what was wrong, why was I crying & I maintained, “I’m alright, I’m fine” but I am never sure if I am.

The two dead babies in my dream – they float. They stare at me but they do not talk. I know who they are, even now, but they are not mine anymore. Eileithyia runs her hands over my back & through my hair. Whatever she says, upsets me.

I am not the same person I was before I met Eileithyia in my dreams. I am not as fickle or forlorn but I am the same amount of furious. There is a burning in my belly, a ferocious fire that wants to burn the world down – holding in my words, my thoughts & my feelings for fear of hurting people is like having lightning bolts streak through me minute by minute. If only I did not care. Perhaps I could let it out & the burning would stop. Perhaps I would be reduced to Ashes. If only.

We do not talk about these things anymore, my husband & I. I am too angry & he is too sad. All the waiting & the disappointment. The passion & the pain. It beats down our door every month & we fall deeper in all the time. We both know it cannot destroy us, we know no matter the outcome we are stronger together & stronger than anything the Gods could throw at us. But in the meantime, our daily lives are filled with hope & uncertainty; of conversations not endured & decisions not made.

“People ask me how we are,

We are, I say, mostly lost.”

Lightning Bolts – Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

Two lightning bolts were delivered to my room,
They were gifts from Zeus.

I rock the bolts in a bassinet of pine.

People ask me how I am,
I say “I’m all right, I’m fine.

I push the lightning bolts in a pram,
Till the sun goes down & it gets dark,
& the girls from Jubilee Street hang out their windows,
& they wave & ask me how I am tonight.
I say “I’m good, I’m all right.”

In Athens all the youths are crying from the gas.
I’m by the hotel pool working on a tan.
People come up & ask me who I am.
I say if you don’t know, don’t ask.

Zeus laughs – but it’s the gas.
& he asks me how I am.
I say “Zeus, don’t ask.”

My lightning bolts are jolts of joy,
They are joy boys from Zeus.
I feed them porridge in their booster seats of knowledge.

& in the cradle of democracy, the pigeons are wearing gas masks.

My lightning bolts play in the elevators,
They slide down the hotel banister,
& Zeus throws a gas canister,
& it spins around the pool,
As pigeons wearing respirators steal the lightning bolts.

Zeus wants them back.

O my bolts of joy,
O my darling little boys.
They are lost to us.
& people.. .
They are never coming back.

At night I watch them sleep,
& cry years of tears,
& it’s not the gas.

People ask me how we are
“We are,” I say, “mostly lost.”

Reflection

We fell in love in an afternoon & the sun set as we kissed.
The beauty of the dimming sky; a reflection in your blue eyes.
We kissed & felt a new forever beat in our chests.
An eternal sunset burning in our hearts each day born anew & ending with a kiss.
A kiss as sweet & warm as that first afternoon.
 
I await the setting of the sun each day for the chance to kiss again.
Each sunset on another year together;
a beauty, a reflection, and a promise to each other.
This love is as certain as the sun setting on the day.
 
10th of February; 6 years to the day
a happy anniversary of that first afternoon
I can measure the years of our love in sunsets.
Affection in your eyes that never dims
And a bond which not storm nor rain could break.

Sunset 41 IMG_0657Tumblr
  

Velvet Buttons

It will be our second wedding anniversary in a week & a half. There are days where I feel as if the time has flown but honestly, right now, it feels like just the right amount of time.

Despite the last two years throwing some of the most difficult challenges at us, at me, that I have ever had to face I am amazed & proud to say that I can still get up each morning & look myself in the mirror. Okay, sometimes it is through the slit of one eye, but it is still me that looks back & at the end of (most) days I smile. The principal reason for this is the man who chose me to be his wife. After almost a decade of knowing him I can honestly say that I would not be here, if not for him.

With our cotton anniversary looming I have been, naturally, thinking about our wedding day – running all the memories through my mind, it is still fresh & beautiful in there – so many tender & spectacular moments that are too divine to describe. As always, I recall my favourite moments & there it is. Shining out in the light on its pedestal. That one shining moment, that is still my favourite from that entire day.

Corsmor & I left our wedding reception much later than we had planned – we were having so much fun & we had to force ourselves to leave. Under the arch of love we bid farewell to our guests & made our way to our bridal suite. We stood in the middle of our room & looked at each other. In the background the murmur from the reception continued on (& on for the next hour or so…)

Corsmor stood behind me & unbuttoned the back of my gown – there were over 30 buttons which were covered in velvet & encased a zip. His fingers worked them all & he slid the zip down with ease. My dress fell to the floor. I turned & kissed him, passionately.
   “Mr Rolfe, may I present your wife?” I whispered
He grinned & his blue eyes glistened. Lump in his throat, he laughed & kissed me again.

My feet were aching & I felt weak. Corsmor ran me a bath & I slipped into the bubbles with no complaint. It was then I noticed that my hands were a light shade of bordeaux – the dye from my velvet wedding gown had worn off onto my skin. I grinned.

I lied there with the handmade diamond pins still in my hair, my glossed red lips, my wedding ring & my engagement ring sparkling. I am sure that I was grinning, my cheeks were aching from smiling all day. I closed my eyes. I drifted.

When I got out of the bath & put on my warm linen robe & found Corsmor outside on our balcony – his suit still on, his tie removed & his top few buttons open. He was fine-looking. Handsome, strong & neat in his suit. He had, had his waistcoat made from the same velvet as my dress – his idea & it was soft to touch & the colour set off his dark, olive skin.
…”You look pretty” I told him. He laughed again & shook his head.

The moon shone behind us, a light fog hung over Mount Lofty & the music was still beating at the reception. We could see the room glowing from our balcony but we could not see in. It sounded like there was a great party, still, going on.

We sat out on the balcony for hours – we smoked, drank champagne & we talked. We traded war stories about the day, about our families & friends, about how happy we were & how much we loved each other.

This precious time on the balcony in the small hours of the morning are what I remember most from the day because it was just us. It was the first time we had been truly alone all day – our first time alone as man & wife & what did we do? We talked. Like we always had – talk had always come first. From the first moment we met online;
    “Are you going to say something? I am going to delete you if you do not talk to me” he wrote
It was a challenge & I accepted.

That is nearly a decade ago now.

Only hours previous we had our photo taken in front of that same balcony & in our window sill. I knew that years later we would want to remember our room & the moments alone. Pictures & notebooks full of stories; that is how I remember. Without them, I am lost.

When the air began to chill & the wild birds started to rustle; the music from the reception had stopped long ago (I had not noticed) we decided to go back to our room.

I texted my brother, Leo.

   “Happiest day of my life…”

& it was.

Wedding Day

Velvet Plantation

I met her when I was 7. We were friends. We were in love. She went away.

I thought about her every day for the longest time. Until we met again. 7 years later.

She showed me what love is. She came out of nowhere, even now, I am certain she did not walk, but floated. We were inseparable, we spent days, end upon end, with each other. She showed me how to kiss, how to love, how to want & how to need.

We floated on clouds & whispered with cotton ball mouths. We slipped open our veins & fed velvet lust to each other. I hear her voice in my head even now & I want to walk off a cliff for her.
 
There is a place I go – it used to be just us. I would see her there, lying in the grass staring up at the stormy sky – I would walk through a freezing stream, through fog, afraid & there she would be waiting. I would lie next to her, shivering, & with my eyes closed I would slip my hand in hers & wish the dark away. She would whisper my name through the haze – she would find the calm in me & pull it out. In all my darkest moments I have been in that forest with her, my calm brought back to me by her whisper.

For two decades it has just been us but now there is another – he stands tall like a terrible soldier – I freeze in my tracks & the girl that I was holding disappears. It is just me & I run. I run towards him, not away. I look behind me & there is no one there. I run alone, I run fast, I run right through him.

The faster I run through the forest the closer he gets to me until I cannot run anymore. This happens over & over until I cannot run anymore. The faster I run the harder he holds me when I finally find his heart against my heart, the beats blaring in my ears – he whispers so close to my ear that I feel his breath flow through me, warming me – he whispers my name & I whisper his.

Dreaming of the forest is something that haunts me, now daily. Everyday adds another beat, another breath, but it is the same fog, the same stream, the same grass, my girl & my soldier. Standing tall. Whispering my name.

Sometimes I wonder if they will ever meet. If he could bring her home.

She went away. We were in love. We were friends. I met her when I was 7.

watch: http://youtu.be/uYzkioskF6A


Forest

Sing With Rapture & Dance Like A Dervish

‘Love is passion, obsession, someone you can’t live without. If you don’t start with that, what are you going to end up with? Fall head over heels. I say find someone you can love like crazy & who’ll love you the same way back. & how do you find him? Forget your head & listen to your heart… Run the risk, if you get hurt, you’ll come back. Because, the truth is there is no sense living your life without this. To make the journey & not fall deeply in love – well, you haven’t lived a life at all. You have to try. Because if you haven’t tried, you haven’t lived.” ~~ Anthony Hopkins, Meet Joe Black

Spring has sprung & we have had some good news at last – just one more operation to get out of the way in October & all should be well.

Running risks, getting hurt, trying, clawing, healing, screaming – all these things are living – but loving – that is still new to me every day & every day I wake up confused… he is still here… he must be mad, purely & utterly mad.
 Ashes & Corsmor

“Good King of Cats, only one of your nine lives”

What I hear is “I don’t trust myself”.

Let me put this down here so that you can hear me. So it can never be deleted. Established 2013.

What I want from you is friendship. I want the kind of friendship that develops over years. Where trust is given but also earned. Where we know so much about each other that it is comfortable & safe. Where we can spend hours together doing activities & our partners can trust us. I want to be able to talk about anything & everything. I want to be able to talk about politics without one of us getting angry & I want to be able to talk about sex without it becoming about you & me. It is not about you & me. It is about the bond.

It does not matter to me that I am attracted to you. I am attracted to lots of people. I would argue that no one is friends with anyone they are not, on some level, attracted to. It is simple biology. Desire is natural. What happens in our heads is entirely ours & no one can judge that. Dreams are not actions.

You said you find this situation unusual. That I would be honest with Corsmor about how I feel. The proposition that you & I can be close without having to have a sexual relationship, you find new & unusual. Well perhaps it is by today’s standards. Today’s standards of unachievable romantic-movie versions of love, friendship & marriage. To me marriage is about constantly learning from each other because you can be completely honest without fear of recrimination or embarrassment. It’s about accepting the other person & vowing to help them become someone more than they are. I see friendship the exact same way. Real friendship. It’s like a marriage & both are hard work. Sure, most of the time they flow along nicely in a routine but you have to keep a constant vigil on that. It stops being easy if no one cares & no one puts in effort.

So here I am, married, which I always wanted to be but never thought I would be. Me. Married. & Corsmor – married? Do you know how many times I have had to field the question,
“How did you get him to marry you?”
It is somewhat insulting & shows how little they know him. I didn’t ‘get him’ to do anything. We fell in love. We spent many years developing a connection & friendship before we ever became a couple & before ever having sex but we had been committed to each other from day one. We both knew we would spend forever together & we’d go to the ends of the earth to make that happen. And we did. That’s the difference.

You & I both have partners who love us & who we love back. They are significantly awesome people. They are the number one’s. They are what makes both of us special. She comes first & so does he. I respect her & I respect what you have together.

I am committed to my friendship with you in the same way I am committed to my marriage. I am committed to learning about you. To being there when you need me & annoying you when you don’t. It’s not logical in my head. It’s just a bond that we seem to have. A bond that I would like to see become something more than friendship, something like best friends, or brother & sisters. But in reality, it probably has a league of its own.

If this is something that you want – if it’s a desire you share or you see this potential in me, then please, keep talking. If not, just say goodbye & let this end. Go back to how you were before we talked. & be happy. Because I can’t do this if you are scared. I can’t do this if you’re unhappy. & I won’t do this if every day we’re faced with fear. Trust yourself. Trust me. If we don’t have that, then there’s nothing here.

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Tybalt

Red Pedestal

“The practice of putting women on pedestals began to die out when it was discovered that they could give orders better from there.” ~~ Betty Grable

I have been up on this pedestal before & learned that if you do not use it wisely then it is just a platform from which to fall further. Having fallen as far as a girl can fall I can attest to the limitless freedom with which I was filled. Especially since the man I trust the most puts me up there & then pulls me down as he pleases – the freedom of no control is extraordinary.

woman-on-a-pedestal

Modern Bond

Modern day BDSM… 

“Flutters awakened inside her as he fitted his hands at her waist;
“What if I don’t like it? What if I want you to stop?”
“You’ll have a safe word. The second you say it, I’ll stop.”
“What if I forget my safe word?”
His lips twitched.
“All you have to do is answer a security question, and I’ll send you an e-mail to reset it.”

 ~~ Lisa Kleypas, Crystal Cove

Worth Retaining

There is one phrase from 50 Shades of Grey certainly worth retaining – “kinky fuckery”. I like the sound of that.

After now having read all three books in the series & having spoken to my friends about what they thought I am overwhelmed by how many of my friends have improved their sex lives (if only for a short while, or until the next craze) by using the book to talk to their partners about what they want to try. In that way, I think these books are a good thing.

Like the movie ‘9 1/2 weeks’ or ‘Basic Instinct’ I am sure 50 Shades will fade out into the long list of sexual encounters we have all had that have taught us something or opened our minds a little but I for one hope that next time I get on top of it before all the hype.

bad_egg

Good Girl Highway

If you are going my way down the Good Girl Highway then it is well past any shade of Grey… I am astonished at how many of the women I know think the actions in such prose are new… Or perhaps it’s just new to them? Well it is a long highway & the origins of BDSM are unclear, but the origin of wanting it are not. It begins when girls become women & want, ever so desperately, to be referred to by their men as “good girls”…

In Your Room

 
 
In your room
Where time stands still
Or moves at your will
Will you let the morning come soon
Or will you leave me lying here
In your favourite darkness
Your favourite half-light
Your favourite consciousness
Your favourite slave
In your room
Where souls disappear
Only you exist here
Will you lead me to your armchair
Or leave me lying here
Your favourite innocence
Your favourite prize
Your favourite smile
Your favourite slave
image

Missing Denial

I have tried to suppress my submissiveness. Why express something that seems no longer valued or required? After over a year of this I am asking why I am denying this part of me. I do not deny all of my submissive tendencies but they’re much more everyday & mundane now. I care for my husband & for our marriage but there’s a piece missing. Something that had become unique, special, secret has lapsed. I miss the mix of pain & pleasure; not being able to speak or move without being asked. I miss watching porn that he chose, I miss the bruises. I miss the wince of pain when I sit down. I miss jelly legs & his gentleness as I exit subspace. I miss the bonding, the trust & the evolution of something entirely between us & no one else. How long does it take before missing becomes needing?

BDSM Eye

Real Love

All my little plans and schemes
Lost like some forgotten dream
Seems like all I really was doing
Was waiting for you
 
Just like little girls and boys
Playing with their little toys
Seems like all they really were doing
Was waiting for you
 
Don’t need to be alone
No need to be alone
 
It’s real love
Yes it’s real, yes it’s real love
It’s real, yes it’s real love…
 
From this moment on I know
Exactly where my life will go
Seems that all I really was doing
Was waiting for love
 
Don’t need to be afraid
No need to be afraid
 
It’s real love
Yes it’s real, yes it’s real love
It’s real, yes it’s real love…
 
Thought I’d been in love before,
But in my heart I wanted more
Seems like all I really was doing
Was waiting for you
 
Don’t need to be alone
No need to be alone
 
It’s real love
Yes it’s real, yes it’s real love
It’s real, yes it’s real love…
image

Free

I Am Free
Some new experiments & surprises lately; eye bolts in the walls I did not know about, an outdoor adventure – things are never dull around here. I have been ill for a few days & Meta & I have been unable to make love but that has not made this relationship less visible nor less important. We have so many ways to connect – his eyes catch mine & I hear him in my mind.
He takes very good care of me & I am thankful to have such a strong yet sensitive partner. His soft touch impresses me but what surprises me as how swiftly & seamlessly he is able to dominate me by the same hand.

Stillness

Real life seems to have gotten in the way of mine & Meta’s journey at the moment & while it is a welcome distraction to have my family around me I do miss our weekends alone; free to do as we please.
We still find time for each other within this though which I am pleased about. Meta is conscious of my needs as I am his. Lately there has been a stillness inside me that we are working through & although we do not often discuss it openly I know that he is very much aware of this.
Perhaps we all reach plateau’s in our lives where we seem to coast along but I believe in shaking things up which I plan to do once we can create some space and time for ourselves.

Ashes 02

I-Contact

When Meta & I make love & he has or is speeding things are unlike our usual session. He is aggressive, he is matter of fact; he is demanding & experimental.

Today while sucking his cock before I slipped into my subspace I was considering his mind & whether he knew I was there – whether his apparent semi-disinterest was nothing more than him entering his own space. I pondered & doubted whether (despite his erection) he enjoyed my attention to him at all. Whether his arousal was more about wanting than it was about sharing. All of which in my honest heart has little effect on my own enjoyment of him. My mind wandered as he forced his cock as far down my throat as he was able, as my eyes watered & I began to feel the hotness between my thighs – it wandered to the times he has shown me the inside of his heart through passion, & through his unending desire. It wandered to the first time we made love, to the 4 hours of head sex where he came but once & I wondered how much speed he had ingested that day. Whether he was nervous & needed that to settle his mind, to concentrate.

Years of our love & sex laid are out in text messages & inboxes. In emails & in words. In looks & in slight burning touches of our skin. Rarely moving close enough for anyone outside our bodies to notice. The fire between us burns strong. This fire is contained at the moment. It is unable to spill out of us. It is in moments like today when I ponder his love & his passion that I find the fire of this love to be so powerful.

He asked me without words to remove my clothes & I complied. I moved from his cock to kiss his mouth but I was met with a stone like look, I am not sure where he was but he was not entirely with me. I could not hear the porn in the background, I had barely noticed it at all as we laid together watching it. I had been intently listening to his heart beat ever increasing until I spoke & until he ordered me to suck…

He is making himself a drink in our Barn kitchen, he is floating as I walk past him to the bathroom & he gives me no eye contact & I wonder if I am being punished. I again walk past him to the bedroom to put on my clothes after cleaning up & again he is absently operating without a sense that I am there. Not intentional perhaps but perhaps representative of his state of mind? I wonder for a moment if he had thought the water from my eyes was tears & not my bodies simple gag reflex. It did not seem of concern to him at the time. Although as I was trapped in my own thoughts of him while sucking him I was unaware if he was watching me at all.

I must remember to look him in the eye. I would like to command his attention. His gaze over me. I have been unable to achieve this. I am unable… I am… unable…

Sundress

 
This sounds like my upright piano – beauty.
 
I have thought a lot about you lately. About how we used to talk & talk, all the conversations I cannot recall. I just want to look in your eyes again while you smoke a joint & look so natural in that beauty you carry so well. Lying there in yellow, such solid beauty that I would have done anything you asked me to, gone anywhere you wanted to, followed you everywhere. I never did know how to tell you that – how the mornings were easy because you were there & the midnights seemed to last an eternity if I was next to you.
 
You could call me now & I would drop everything.
 
That girl in the sundress in my mind. In the yellow. Over there. With the hair & the smile. With the joint & the books full of letters just for me.  That girl. Over there. Just out of reach. In the yellow.

Sundress – Ben Kweller
Everybody’s trying to be the best
What about the girl with loneliness?
I like your sundress
I like your sundress
What about the girl with loneliness?
From the inside out
You’re so beautiful
I want to hold you in my hand.
 
I do everything you want me to
I do everything you want me to do
 
I want to start going on a morning walk.
What about the days when we used to talk?
 
I don’t need a smile from a mannequin,
I just want to hold you in my hands.
 
I do everything you want me to,
I do everything you want me to,
I do everything you want me to do.
 
From the inside out you’ve changed,
Girl you know you have don’t make a good thing bad,
Just let me hold you in my hands.
 
I do everything you want me to
I do everything you want me to do
I do everything everything,
Everything I do everything you want me to
I do everything you want me to do do do for you

(Listen to this here: http://youtu.be/H5tRNEs5lDU?t=1s)

 

Kathy Weber Yellow Dress

Current mood: Intense

HIS

I cannot wait for tomorrow. To be next to him, a whole day, just us. So much to look forward to.


“I want to live darkly and richly in my femaleness. I want a man lying over me, always over me. His will, his pleasure, his desire, his life, his work, his sexuality the touchstone, the command, my pivot. I don’t mind working, holding my ground intellectually, artistically; but as a woman, oh, God, as a woman I want to be dominated. I don’t mind being told to stand on my own feet, not to cling, be all that I am capable of doing, but I am going to be pursued, fucked, possessed by the will of a male at his time, his bidding.”
― Anaïs Nin

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Freedom Fortnight

I have decided I will start taking my meds again tomorrow. It has been 2 weeks, 2 weeks of freedom. Meta calls it a rollercoaster but noted he had not read the word ‘numb’ in a while. That is because I have not been numb this whole time – freedom fortnight – but the anger is creeping in again & I cannot afford to lose what I have gained.
 
There is one thing that remains constant whether I am on or off the meds; the fact that I want to die. I just have more fun trying to get it done while I am off them. Which is not to say it is a game, it is not. It would be a pretty silly game if it were. I keep thinking about Sunday. I wish Meta had pressed his hands a little harder on me when we were in the car – the struggle between two personalities. The Ashes on the inside & the Nectar on the outside. I could have died in that moment. I was so ready for it. All parts of me were ready for me to come out.
 
I remember the version of me the day I first met Meta in the city. When I walked up to him & we walked down O’Connell Street together, bumping shoulders. There was something about him I had never felt before. Something unique & sticky that made me drawn to his insides. It made me want to devour him with each accidental touch. All day that feeling nagged at me. It will never make sense to me why two people who had met in the written word world had chosen the silence of a cinema to meet. Where no words could be exchanged. When we sat there our hands brushed against each other so many times. I knew in his eyes who he was & he knew in mine. In the final moments he kissed me unexpectedly & passionately & I asked him,
 
   “Why?”
He said,
   “I just wanted to know if it was real.” & it was. It still is.
 
Between then & now there have been so many unspoken conversations. So many deleted lines. So many things I wish I had not said to him. So much hurt & so much pain. A trip to Mars & a trip to the crazy house. More trips to hospitals & cuts than I can name & still we manage to find each other at the end of the day in the silence of our loveless homes.
 
Today Chesty said to me
 
  “You & Meta get along so well, you really are amused by the things he says & he really makes you laugh. It is rare to have a male friend that makes you feel so comfortable & so happy. Clearly you love each other very much”.
 
She is right. I could not have said it better myself

A Yearning Panic

19:32 GoogleTalk conversation with Metatron:

Metatron: you need to laugh
Ashes: I need you.
Metatron: you have me. and thats something you dont have to ask for i really panic when i cant find you.. i get so scared i cant breath.. i need you
Ashes: Do you think I am not coming back? Is that why you panic?
Metatron: i dont think at all.. i cant get past you not being here
Ashes: I do not mean to make you panic…  though I could if I were evil…  kidding.  I am sorry
Metatron: im thinking about having you chipped
Ashes: only if you do it yourself
 
He makes me want so many things I cannot have.

Given Up

I wish all the blood would drain from my body & fill the room with the numb that I feel. My head is so full of thoughts like these that I find it difficult to see the real from the replica. Everyone looks & sounds the same. We all know this is my fault. We all know that the numb is a projection. If only someone would direct the camera, we could have a show.

Given Up
 
Wake in a sweat again
Another day’s been laid to waste
In my disgrace
Stuck in my head again
Feels like I’ll never leave this place
There’s no escape
I’m my own worst enemy
I’ve given up…
I’m sick of feeling
Is there nothing you can say?
Take this all away
I’m suffocating!
Tell me what the fuck is wrong with me!
I don’t know what to take
Thought I was focused but I’m scared
I’m not prepared
I hyperventilate
Looking for help somehow somewhere
And no one cares I’m my own worst enemy
I’ve given up…
I’m sick of feeling
Is there nothing you can say?
Take this all away
I’m suffocating!
Tell me what the fuck is wrong with me!
GOD!
Put me out of my misery
Put me out of my misery
Put me out of my…
Put me out of my fucking misery!
 
I’ve given up I’m sick of feeling
Is there nothing you can say?
Take this all away I’m suffocating! Tell me what the fuck is
Wrong with me!

Peach Stained Ashes

I caught Violet out today burning old letters in the backyard. This comes as no surprise to me as she is a painful, passionate little thing. With no expectation of an answer I asked;
 
   “Why are you burning them?”
   “Because life is peachy without me” she snapped
Clearly she had been listening intently to way too much Missy Higgins – or so I thought.
 
We stood around her little bonfire for quite some time before she spoke again. I did not need to know whose letters they were because I had made my guess & was correct.
   “He has no conscience. How can anyone act that way – like nothing ever passed between us, like no unspoken treasures existed between our hearts?” Violet begged at the fire for the answer but nothing came.
 
Why she felt she needed to burn such ancient letters, quite probably from many years ago, in order to find the answer I was not going to ask – I did not want to end up on the fire myself. There was enough fire in her eyes to burn the pages without a match but there we were with an ever growing, glowing explosion spitting words back at us from the pages. I could make out words in ashes like;
   “Love”
   “Promise”
   “Future”
   “Cat”
   “Dream”

I tried to grab one back from the pyre but Violet quickly snapped back my arm from my elbow;
   “Don’t! The words need to burn. They need to disappear like the years.”
 
I guess they don’t call her Violet Ashes for nothing….

Current mood: gloomy
image

Still

I sat on the balcony tonight cutting open the skin around my ankles. I rested them up on the balcony railing & laid back in my chair, letting the blood drip down to the ground below. Back into the earth where it belongs.
 
I have tried to take photos of the sparrows flitting through the air catching mosquitos. They know I am there even though I do not make a sound. I catch a thought of you, wondering what kind of sounds you’re making right now. Whether you’re alone, or with friends, with a lover? Maybe you’re breathlessly making love out in the open like I am imagining with you right now. Maybe you’re sleeping or working. I don’t know where you are.
 
Having not heard from you in a while I figure there must be a new woman on the scene. Yes, that is the first thing that comes to mind… You rarely talk about women. The occasional mention of someone from the past… Ringa… She seems to come up the most. Maybe I am like her? Maybe not.
 
I look down at the ankles that keep me walking further from you.
 
The blood drips still…

Sparrow Flower